


32 Days

by Lori Lane (LoriLane)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Child Neglect, Gen, Touch-Starved, science-in-laws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:55:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoriLane/pseuds/Lori%20Lane
Summary: Set between 1.08 and 1.09. Between Isobel being put in a pod and Texas. Michael is easy to forget.It’s been 32 days since anyone touched Michael Guerin and his skin aches with loneliness.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 55





	32 Days

It’s been 32 days since anyone touched Michael Guerin and his skin ached with loneliness.

It wasn’t a conscious thing. No one said to themselves, “I’m not gonna touch Michael for over a month. That’ll show him!” It just… happens. Isobel is the one person who constantly touches him. She can’t resist a hand in his hair, or an arm around his shoulder, lording over the fact she’s taller than him in heels. Max can usually be depended on for a clap on the shoulder at the very least, but he’s been sucked into a grief vortex that no one can pull him out of.

Alex isn’t talking to him.

Liz uses him as a lab rat. A willing lab rat, but he knows what he is. He takes his own blood samples. No contact necessary.

It’s happened before. He’s used to not being touched. The best foster homes were the ones that ignored him. He knew how to be ignored. He prefered it. So sometimes as a kid, he’d go weeks without even an accidental hand on the shoulder. That was okay. It was better than the alternative.

But it’s been 32 days since they put Isobel in a pod, and no one has touched him since.

Usually Michael would go to the Wild Pony and seek out a fight or a fuck. But he promised Liz he’d only bleed for her, at least until they found a cure for Isobel. And somehow a random fuck just didn’t feel right after remembering the smell of Alex Manes’ hair under his chin as he slept curled up on his chest.

Which brings him back to his current dilemma.

His skin hurts. It doesn’t feel right. His belly is in a knot and has been since he confessed their sins to Isobel and she ran off to get herself injected with alien poison. The knot has gotten more and more twisted, the more time passes.

Alcohol helps. Acetone helps even more. But nothing can get the knot to leave. And the fabric of his shirt scratches his skin, the buttons digging into his skin. Every sensation heightened by the lack of contact from another person. He sits at the makeshift lab, and rubs at his arms trying to sooth the electricity beneath his skin. He lets his head fall in a thunk against the table as he hugs himself, and doesn’t hear the hatch to his bunker open, or the sound of feet on the rungs of the ladder.

He lets his head fall again in a more emphatic thunk in a vain attempt to quiet the chaos in his skin as well as the chaos in his mind. Michael nearly falls out of his chair when a hand touches his back.

“Michael?”

He takes a shaky breath. Liz. Not an intruder. Just Liz.

“Michael, are you okay?”

He tries to sit up straight, and not like an injured animal protecting his belly. He even manages a smirk for her. “Sure Ortecho, why wouldn’t I be okay?”

She didn’t move her hand. It feels like a brand against his back. Liz squints at him, “you’re hugging yourself and were trying to give yourself a concussion.”

Michael finds himself leaning back against the heat of her hand. Suddenly she seems to understand, and he finds himself surrounded by warm arms. Liz holds tight until he hooks his chin over her shoulder and relaxes the clutch around his stomach. His hands drift forward to rest tentatively on her back and for the first time in a month, he takes a real breath and watches her hair flutter as he releases it.

They stay there in silence. He’s perched on a stool, which makes him the perfect height for hugging for once. After a moment, he starts to straighten up and Liz just holds him tighter. “When I lost my sister, everyone wanted to touch me. Strangers were trying to give me hugs. I felt like a thing. An object for people to pour their grief on. I was supposed to stand there dutifully and let them touch me. I was supposed to absolve them of their guilt for treating Rosa like a juvenile delinquent while she was alive. I… I didn’t handle it well.”  
  
Michael couldn’t see her face, but he knew sometimes it was easier to confess things when you can’t make eye contact.  
  
“I didn’t let anyone touch me when I went on my road trip. I didn’t shake hands. I didn’t dance. I stayed in my solitary corner and explored the world. But people can’t live like that. We’re not built to live like that.” She tightened her grip around him, “I’m sorry we didn’t notice you were struggling too.”

Liz finally lets him sit up, but keeps a hand on his knee.

He lies, “I’m not struggling.”

She rolls her eyes. “I come in here and you’re hugging yourself and shaking. I’ve been there. But at least I picked that for myself. I guess this means, you get at least one Ortecho hug a day now.”

He opens his mouth to protest and she speaks over him, “try to deny me my Ortecho hug, and I’ll get my dad to hug you. He’ll do it. Don’t test me.”

Michael opened his hands in defeat.

They weren’t friends. He never intended to become friends with Liz Ortecho. She always glared at him in high school because he’d score so well on tests. He was pretty sure she thought he was cheating. But she’s smart. And she’s funny. And she works hard. He wasn’t friends with Liz Ortecho, but he could be.

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on Tumblr[ @angsty-aliens](https://angsty-aliens.tumblr.com)


End file.
